Jelly Beans.

20120728-134622.jpg

a familiar place then

28    Write
about a
familiar
place now
and then.

On my birthday perhaps that should be my birthplace.

I so love to be outdoors and have all my life.  I was fascinated by the brook on Genung St. and would cross is on stepping stones or dip my feet in.  I feel the shade, I feel the air.

Ironically, I was told earlier in the week that my Aunt's house next to that brook was nearly destroyed by flooding from Hurricane Irene, flooding caused by the debris blocking the brook.

How sad to think that.  How surely I know you can't ever go back.  You can look but you can't go back because it's no longer really there.

20120725-211856.jpg

Am I too literal? Because I want to know if the glitter is edible.

And if it is, yum, cake.

I got two Happy Birthday’s today.  Blaise asked me why and I had to remind him that he excused Facebook a few days ago as being self aware.

In any case, birthday cake means celebrating someone, someone’s life, someone’s existence.

As a kid, we always had cake.  Homemade cake, with candles and everyone sang.

 

Everything’s better with bacon.

Well, that is true, but are we writing about food today?  Or are we writing about life’s little pleasures?  The things we enjoy so much that they make everything better?  Shall we make a list?  Would the list change? Grow? Lean heavily towards one thing? Such as food?

  • Yes, a perfectly cooked bite of bacon.
  • A perfectly ripe raspberry, ….. or peach, or apples from Slate Hill.
  • Crème brûlée of almost any quality.
  • Butter.  On a soft warm roll, or Brussels sprouts.
  • The first sip of hot tea on a cold day
  • Music – live and loud.
  • Accelerating a great car.
  • Road trip.  To anywhere.
  • Blank books of quality.
  • People watching in an airport.  Near an electric outlet.
  • iPhone
  • the fall season
  • New shoes.  If they are hiking boots, flip flops or sneakers.
  • A good watch.
  • Wild violets.
  • PIE!
  • A hike.  Anywhere.
  • Books. Many, many books
  • Gear and gadgets

epitaph

6 hours ago on his wall:

"Earn your epitaph or one will be provided for you."

                                             Blaise Morgan

Nine Eleven

On September 11, 2001 I recall exactly where I was, who broke the news, the feelings of disbelief followed by horror, then terror that it wouldn’t end, later the hope survivors would be found, then hopelessness.

I resisted the urge to gather my family, but called the high school to ask if I should pick up my son and they reassured me he was safe. Some time later he called from school. He’s reluctant to tell anyone where he was and what he was doing, but when I remember his voice in that first conversation I now know it was a fork in the road that changed our lives forever.

On September 11, 2001 my 16 year old son was in an auditorium at the high school taking a test proctored by a group of active duty military – the Armed Services Vocational Aptitude Battery (ASVAB) – the entrance exam for the military. He said, “Mom, their cell phones all started ringing at once and they were scrambling around whispering. They never told us what happened and we finished the test, but were told if our scores were low they would be scrapped and we could take it again.”

Captain Blaise Morgan aced the ASVAB on September 11, 2001.

Freedom to celebrate

I’m going to church now, where I go many Sunday’s and never take for granted my freedom to do so. And when I get back I’m going to write something about my grandfather, who flew a flag on his front porch and taught me respect for that flag, who told me stories of his immigrant grandparents who were so proud to be in this great country they never allowed their native German to be spoken again. I’m going to examine where my patriotism came from and why I effortlessly passed it on to my children, why I have rudely defended our military decisions, long before my only son joined the US Army. I’m going to try to explain to my son why this country celebrates and lives seemingly carefree lives while he sleeps with a weapon, and remind him that in our darkest hours we come together fiercely, as Americans, as the greatest country in the world and why that will always be the case. I’m going to remind my son of the heated discussion we had over his willingness to die to defend the rights of Americans to burn their flag and carry signs that say, “God loves dead soldiers”. I’m going to convince him that includes celebrations of taking out the enemy and celebrating Patriot Day to memorialize and remember one of our darkest days. The average American is not a trained soldier, the average American is what it’s always been – a farmworker, a steelworker, a factory worker and we revel in victory for our country be it large or small. Today we turn off the reality TV and we watch planes crash into the Twin Towers and the Pentagon and a PA field, even though it’s been ten years. We don’t forget. We don’t want to forget. American’s are reliving ten years ago with tears in their eyes and are very aware that brave men and women continue to fight terrorism in an effort to keep it far from our shores, and have succeeded for ten long years.

Old Lady Adventures

I'm not this damn old on the inside...

biking america

which is 4,229 miles, should anyone ask

30in30for30

Every Ballpark, Every Day.

Musings & Meaning

in the Midnight Hour

A Baseball Road Trip

Thirty Major League Baseball Stadiums. Sixty Stadium Dogs. One Season.